


I really, really, really liked it.

by Imherepeasant



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Ending, Blow Jobs, E for blowies and grinding but its not that bad tbh, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I Had To, I didn't get too graphic, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, SIMON IS SO IN LOVE, Simon's power comes back, Smut, lol Baz gives a blowie how cute, my bb, simon's tail, tiny fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imherepeasant/pseuds/Imherepeasant
Summary: I've never posted smut before, play nice.Simon and Baz as I like to imagine them, magic back and used sensibly, living together with Penny, drinking tea and staying in bed and having lots of sex. Being nineteen years old completely in love.Lazy Sunday morning, basically.





	I really, really, really liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never posted smut before, play nice. I re-read Carry On but needed a living-together situation where Simon still gets to be a Mage, so voila.

The dead spots are slowly shrinking, the magic is returning. Nobody’s quite sure how or why, but Martin Bunce speculates that magic doesn’t just vanish, it has to go somewhere, and Simon’s must’ve just dissipated, to gradually rejoin the atmosphere. Simon’s magic itself is on it’s way back, slowly. Everyone, Simon included, thought it was gone permanently, but Penny argued that Simon had still been the greatest mage to live, he was drenched in magic. It would always find its way back to him. Even though he doesn’t quite understand, Simon isn’t complaining.

This time it’s controllable, easily so, probably made easier by replacing his wand. Baz’s Hampshire house has dozens, from ancestors and family relations, it didn’t take long to find one that sang in Simon’s hand. He’s as powerful as Penny, not as powerful as Baz. He doesn’t mind at all, the magic isn’t too important, he would’ve been happy without it, because it was the sacrifice that gave him Baz, that kept everyone he loved alive. Baz uses magic very little now, too. There’s a simplicity to doing things the normal way, a laziness he can’t get enough of. Baz has grown to love laziness, instead of bustling about everywhere, constantly on the prowl or hunting for information, he lies, stretched out like a cat, or keeps himself wrapped up in bed all day, Simon by his side. 

There’s sex, now (Baz cannot believe how good it is. It’s fantastic. How could he’ve been missing out on it for so long?) but it’s mostly holding hands and kissing and talking in low voices about the future, now that there’s a future in sight.

Technically, Baz did move in with Fiona, high in an apartment block, ten minutes away from Simon and Penny’s place if you’re walking. The idea to live separately didn’t last long at all, although it was a sensible notion. Baz had come over their first night for a housewarming dinner, then stayed over when it got late, arguing that he was “too tired and too drunk to go cavorting across London alone, Simon.”

He hasn’t gone home since.

Simon’s room has been dominated by Baz’s things, more so than at Watford. There are multiple pairs of his jeans in Simon’s wardrobe, pots of hair product on the desk, his toothbrush sits in the bathroom (not even a spare! His actual, only toothbrush)

Neither Penny nor Simon mind at all. Baz cooks well, and does his share of the cleaning. He pays for the food he eats and the electricity he uses, he also quietly funds the weekly shop and takeaways, despite Penny and Simon’s insistence that he really doesn’t have to. He’s welcome to stay as long as he likes!

During one of these times, after Baz had discretely bought three dozen scones and five blocks of butter, Penny had snapped.

 

“Just move in, Baz! I love having you here! Simon loves having you here! Just move in!”

 

Baz had considered this for a moment, while closing the fridge door, then decided that moving in had literally no downside.

So he had. 

 

…

 

It’s a Sunday morning, and Baz is the only one awake.

He extracts himself from under Simon’s arm, and pads into the kitchen wearing nothing but his underwear. He makes tea, the normal way,  and takes a mug to Penny (fast asleep), before heading back to his and Simon’s room, and settling into bed again.

Simon’s tea will go cold before he wakes, no doubt, but Baz can’t wake him up when he looks this fantastic asleep. 

His tail pokes out of the top of his underwear, coiled lazily across his exposed back. Although the wings were magicked away as soon as Simon could manage, he decided to keep the tail in the end. Baz finds it quite nice to be honest, it’s useful for starters,  Simon treats it like an extra hand, but he likes to wrap Baz up in it too, which is much cosier than it sounds. It waves about when he’s happy, and goes bolt straight when he’s stressed. The tail makes reading Simon’s emotions so much easier. Right now he’s relaxed as anything, the tail shows no signs of nightmares. The nightmares have stopped. Baz no longer has to smooth sweaty curls off of Simon's face at ridiculous-o'-clock when he wakes up shaking and tear-stained. He no longer has to coo in Simon's ear until the bronze ringlets dry out and Simon is able to fall back asleep on Baz's cold chest, the icy skin cooling down Simon's hot, ruddy, salty face.

Simon’s face is smooth and peaceful as he sleeps, it has been almost ever since the Humdrum was defeated, and he stopped worrying every moment of the day. He doesn’t look necessarily younger, with all the lines smoothed out of his face, but happier, and even more good-looking, if that’s possible. His bronze curls are mussed up, fluffy and wild-they’ll remain like this until Simon combs them with his fingers or gets them wet in the shower. Sometimes, he’ll even use **“flat as a pancake!”** or **“settle down!”** to stop them from standing up quite so ludicrously.

Baz’s own hair is much longer than it was at Watford, past his chin, nearly at his shoulders. Penny likes this, because she gets to use the expensive conditioner he now buys. She thinks he hasn’t noticed. He has. He doesn’t mind.

Simon like to touch it. He smooths in the hair potions Baz likes, combing and rubbing until every end is covered (because Pitches do _not_ have split ends, goddamnit). He fiddles with it when Baz’s head is in his lap, during a film, or combs his fingers through it absentmindedly as he’s falling asleep. He had always guided him in for kisses by the hair, almost since the beginning, but now he grabs it when they’re fucking, too (because they’re having sex. Heaps of sex, more sex than Baz can fit inside his brain yet _not nearly enough sex)_ although this makes Baz blush to think about. 

He balls a section up in his fist to keep Baz’s head wherever it is, then carries on with whatever he’s doing.

 

The first time had been an accident.

Simon made a fist around some of Baz’s hair, from behind, then continued pounding into him. It had been so unexpected that Baz came almost at once, but it wasn’t until Simon had come too, and was lying breathless, trying to regain his composure that he realised what he’d done.

“Oh God, Baz. I grabbed you, I didn’t even think about it, I’m so sorry.”

Baz looked over, and saw Simon looking guilty, humiliated. He rolled himself up onto one elbow and kissed Simon, allowing tongues and biting (carefully, of course, avoiding the fangs), all things he refused to do when in public or with others around. Then, it was a quick, dry press of lips. Now, it was a full-body, drawn-out affair, and Simon made a small, appreciative sound in the back of his throat.

Baz draw away, and spoke.

“Don’t apologise. I liked it. I really, really, **really** liked it.”

He had felt himself getting hard again, which was preposterous, but was definitely happening. Simon smiled, and pulled him back in for another kiss, by the hair.

 

This morning, Baz had finished his tea and considered getting dressed by the time Simon awoke, wiping his eyes groggily and sitting up. Simon sleeps in only underwear too, namely Baz’s underwear, which is decent on Baz but completely obscene on Simon, because although equally tight, Baz wears the black pairs and Simon the white. You can see **everything** , and that means absolutely everything.

Simon is hard, but that’s mostly irrelevant, because even without an erection the stretchy white fabric clings to his…ahem-equipment, highlighting every vein, every curve, every ridge. 

Baz blushes, and looks away as Simon stretches and reaches for his tea, mumbling a quick, _perfect_  “ **some like it hot** ” before taking a sip and glancing over at Baz, sitting next to him in bed.

“Morning.” Simon smiles, and leans over to Baz for a warm kiss, immediately reaching for the back on Baz’s neck and shuffling closer so Baz is practically in his lap. Baz kisses back, and lets his hands roam up onto Simon’s shoulder, then down to his ribs, his stomach, down…

Simon murmurs something Baz doesn’t catch, then positively purrs as Baz pulls the elastic of his white underwear’s waistband down and to one side.

Simon’s dick is exactly how Baz imagined it, and exactly in tune with the rest of his long lean body: tawny and freckled in places, neat and clean, and big. Of course the Chosen One is fucking hung. It made Baz laugh in astonishment the first time he was naked with Simon.

The underwear around his knees, Simon’s head lolls back, tufty bronze curls spilling over the pillow, and allowing Baz excellent access to the mole on his neck as Baz’s cold hand begins a languid up and down. Baz shifts down their bed, and suddenly there’s a flat tongue at the crown, and Simon’s brain short-circuits for a moment. There’s no inner monologue, no insecurity, not even “ _God, Baz looks fantastic,”_ or _“This feels fantastic.”_ Just sparks, just white light behind his eyelids. He regains his composure (partially) after a moment, and begins speaking to Baz, encouraging him in this most noble task.

“Jesus, Baz. _Jesus! Baz!_ ” His voice is strained as Baz licks across a particularly sweet spot, Simon can feel the smirk on his face. Baz stops for a short moment, and looks up at Simon for a minute. Simon gazes back, through half-lidded eyes, flushes and breathing through his mouth.

“Simon.” He says, grinning “I’m in love with you.”

Simon beams, and laughs.

“This is going to sound so awful. I love you too, of course I do, but can you please finish sucking my dick before we get all mushy?”

Baz smirks and dips back down. Simon gasps at the sudden contact and fists a hand in the back of Baz’s hair, guiding his head up and down as Baz diligently, _expertly_ negotiates the task at hand. The hand in his hair is fantastic, Baz thinks, the hair thing is the hottest thing ever. He decides it’s no harm to grind a bit, just a little bit. This quickly progresses to rutting, and they both come at the same time-with a shout and a stream of profanities and grunts from Simon: 

“Oh! Ah! God! Shit! Baz! God! Baz! Baz! Fuuuck.. ah, shit, Baz…”

Baz comes too. Into the mattress, thrusting up against it madly like a puppy. He’s not a shouter like Simon, but mewls and gasps and bites his lip as he makes a damp patch on their clean fitted sheet. 

“Hmph… ohh…”, vaguely. Eyes scrunched shut and fists clenched, you know the drill.

 

Afterwards, when they’re lying exhausted and sticky (Baz feeling a little smug that he managed to swallow, a feat considering how repulsive semen is. It tastes like paint thinner. This probably has something to do with how poor Simon’s diet is, it’ll probably be pure butter soon. Yuck).

 

Simon says it properly.

“I love you too. I’m completely, totally, unquestionably in love with you. I can’t get enough.”

He’s smiling in a goofy way when Baz looks up at him, giddy and lolling, his just-fucked symptoms. 

Baz smiles back, and kisses him again. Then again. 

“I love you back, Simon, a thousand times.”

“I love it when you call me Simon.”

“Simon.”

Simon smiles and kisses him again, then again.

Then again.

Again.


End file.
